Falling For Lucas (Falling Book 6)

by Tracy Lorraine

  I eventually drag my sorry backside into the bathroom for a hot shower, hoping it might wash some of my misery down the drain. It’s wishful thinking though, because when I step out I don’t feel any better. The muscles in my shoulders might be a little less tense, but that’s about it.

  I tug on a pair of jogging bottoms, then pull one of Taylor’s giant hoodies over my head. All thoughts of going to uni, or even leaving the flat ever again, are completely gone. Instead, I head to the kitchen and pull out everything I need to lose myself for a few hours. I kick the coffee machine into action and get started.

  * * *

  When Taylor finds me hours later, it’s with flour in my hair, cake batter splatted over his hoodie and a bottle of vodka and cans of Coke littering the coffee table in front of me. There are also cold mugs of coffee littering the surfaces of the living room and kitchen.

  “What happened, Lil?” he asks after he’s assessed the situation.

  I met Taylor not long after I started uni. He’s a couple of years older than me as he started late, but he’s also coming towards the end of his degree. He’s studying photography while I do interior design. My wonderful parents bought this flat towards the end of our first year, and we moved in together as soon as we could. We know each other inside out, so I shouldn’t have been expecting him not to question me right now.

  “Connie had her baby,” I slur sadly, focusing on the news I’ve received that I can talk about. I have no intention of telling him yet about the disaster that was work this morning.

  “Oh,” he responds, looking half happy for Connie and half sad for me.

  “A little boy. Noah,” I say, holding my phone up for him to see.

  “Aw, cute.” Taylor puts his stuff down, then comes to sit next to me and pulls me to him. He totally engulfs my tiny frame when he bear hugs me, making me feel like a china doll. “It’s going to be okay, Lil.”

  Along with Dec, Taylor knows everything that happened last year, as does Connie now as well. None of them agree with me keeping what happened to myself. They think it will help me come to terms with it all if I tell the rest of my family, but I can’t bring myself to do it. My parents and Emma have already been through too much heartache, and my childhood best friend, Nicole, is going through her own nightmare at the moment. None of them need me to burden them with more.

  “I know,” I reply as I swallow down my sorrow. “Daniel also proposed to Beth on the Eiffel Tower.”

  “No shit. She’s really got him whipped,” he says with a laugh.

  When he pulls back from me, he leans down to his bag and grabs something.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says with a smile as he hands me a single rose. The gesture makes my eyes fill with tears. He’s such a sweetheart.

  “Thank you, Tay.”

  “Dave wasn’t in, so…” he says with a shrug but laughs, telling me he’s joking.

  “I love you,” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck. Taylor’s like my adopted brother, there isn’t anything he doesn’t know about me. I’m feeling a little out of the loop where he’s concerned though. He’s been out a lot recently and I have no idea what he’s up to. He’s reluctant to share when I question him about it.

  “So what have I got to eat then?” He walks off towards the kitchen that is covered in all sorts of baked goodies, including cupcakes, flapjacks and millionaire’s shortbread. “Bloody hell, Lil, you were on it this afternoon,” he says with a laugh as he shovels an entire cupcake into his mouth in one go. “So good,” he mumbles with a full mouth.

  * * *

  When I get up the next morning, the kitchen is still covered in a dusting of flour and icing sugar. There are bottles and cans all over the living room and my head is spinning. I take one look at all the cake and run to the toilet to throw up.

  “Too much noise,” I hear mumbled from Taylor’s room as I walk past after showering.

  I stare daggers at his closed door. I should still be in bed sleeping the effects of the vodka off, not getting dressed to head to work, where I’m pretty I’m going to be fired and sent straight back home the second I get there.

  I curse myself when I realise my work trousers are still wet in the washing machine, and pull my skinny jeans back on again. Well, if I’m going to be sacked anyway, I guess it doesn’t really matter. As I do up the button, I notice how big they are on me, reminding me how much weight I’ve lost. I didn’t really have any to lose in the first place. I’ve always been skinny and tall. Where most women work towards losing weight and reducing their curves, I’ve always wanted more. I’m practically straight up and down; it makes me feel like a little girl. Especially when I stand next to Molly and Emma—they have such amazing curvaceous figures, and I look like a six-year-old. No guy’s going to look twice at me like this.

  I let go of my waistband and look at myself in the mirror. My ribs are sticking out along with my hipbones, and my belly…it’s totally non-existent. The only thing I see now when I look at it is the ugly scar I’ve been left with. A constant reminder of my what happened, of my mistake.

  I shake off my thoughts and continue to get ready before heading out. It’s still dark as I walk the short distance to the hotel. I could drive but I find the walk soothing, especially at this time of morning. The early spring is the best when the mornings are crisp but the sun is rising and the birds are singing. It makes everything seem that little bit better. It distracts me from the fact I could be about to go and clean a hotel room that might have used condoms scattered around the place, or some guy’s stained underwear abandoned on the floor. I shudder at the thought of some of the things I’ve found over the last couple of years. But then, I remember my new promotion—if you can call it that. It feels more like I’ve slipped down the ranks having to comply to all the King’s weird quirks. I’m pretty sure only the man himself could do the job. Not that it matters now, because I’m about to be sent on my merry way. I don’t think I’ve got the energy to find a new job right now. I’m in my last few months of uni, and I really don’t need the distraction. I’d hate to have to ask Mum and Dad for money, though. I want to fend for myself where possible.

  I’m the first to arrive, exactly as I planned. I want to get this out of the way before the others appear and have to watch me do my walk of shame after handing my ID badge in. I couldn’t bear to see the looks on Imogen and Eve’s faces as I leave.

  “Lilly, you’re early,” Hilary says as I walk into the cleaners’ room that houses her desk. “Keen to get started?”

  “Something like that,” I mutter. I don’t move to put my stuff in my locker. I just stand behind her, waiting for the inevitable.

  “Did you want to ask me something?” Hilary asks when she turns and finds me still stood there. I go to open my mouth, but nothing comes out. “Mr. Dalton was very happy with your work yesterday.”

  My chin drops open in shock.

  “What’s that face for? I knew you were the right woman for the job, Lilly. Give yourself some credit.”

  “I…uh…thanks,” I mutter before turning towards the lockers.

  My head is spinning as I head up towards the King’s lair. I kissed him and he hasn’t sacked me. Everyone else who’s tried it on with him has been sent away instantly. Why hasn’t he done that to me?

  By the time I’m standing in front of his door, I’m completely confused by the whole thing. Hopefully I can just put the stupid incident behind me and move on like it never happened.

  Thankfully, his suite is in silence when I enter. I don’t think I could have coped with seeing him again. In fact, I would be quite happy never seeing him again.

  I’ve only got the bedroom to do when I hear the door open. My heart lurches into my throat. But when someone shouts, it’s not the voice I was expecting.

  “Lilly?” I want to groan at the sound of her high-pitched voice. It’s a little like nails down a blackboard. Catherine is the operations manager. She’s in charge of us and likes to make sure we know it
. Hilary can’t stand her, and that’s saying a lot because Hilary is the sweetest woman I know. Catherine is a class A bitch. She likes to throw her weight around and get involved with stuff she has no idea about. She’s the one who put a time limit for cleaning each hotel room. She’s never cleaned a hotel room in her life—how the hell would she know how long it takes to do it properly?

  “Yes, in here,” I answer quietly in the hope that she won’t hear me and go back wherever she came from. “Oh,” I say in surprise when I see her in the doorway. In her arms is a huge bunch of lilies. And I mean huge.

  “Please refrain from having people send you flowers at work,” she snaps before putting them down on the side and marching off.

  “Who on earth is sending me flowers?” I question as I walk over. My first thought is Taylor. He must know I’m not feeling great today, but he’s never sent flowers before. Dec, maybe?

  I stand in front of them and admire the gigantic flowers for a minute before hunting down the card.

  When I pull it out, I’m even more confused.

  Our condolences

  What the hell?

  I leave the flowers where they are for now and set about finishing the King’s bedroom. I change the sheets, then spend a ridiculous amount of time faffing around with the show pillows and throw to get them just right. It’s frustrating as hell. I like things clean and organised, but this is just crazy. I briefly think about the state I left the flat in. Something to look forward to after uni this afternoon…

  The rest of my morning goes by in a haze of confusion as I think about who the flowers could be from and what they mean.

  I’m just finishing up when a thought hits me. No, surely not. They couldn’t be from Jake. Although I refused to press charges against him in fear it would make it drag on, I know that Dec and Taylor ‘sorted’ the situation, so to speak. I would like to think he’s long gone.

  The small amount of doubt that they could be from him has me looking over my shoulder all afternoon. I know it’s crazy, but I’m terrified of ever seeing him again. His memory is enough.

  * * *

  I’ve just about got the flat sorted by the time Taylor appears later that evening. He looks pleased to see me in a better state than yesterday. Keeping my job has perked me up a little.

  “Feeling better?” he asks as he leans a hip against the worktop.

  “Yes thank you.”

  “I’m going out tonight. Come with?”

  “No, you’re okay. I’ve got loads of work to do.”

  “Oh come on, Lil, you haven’t been out for a drink with me in forever.”

  It’s true, I haven’t. But I just don’t feel like it. I’ll feel like an idiot dressed in whatever I pick out that is too big for me. Plus, I’m still hanging on to a bit of last night’s hangover. “I’m sorry, I’ve got a deadline.” This is true, but it’s not for a long time.

  “Fine,” he says as he rushes off to his room to get ready. I feel bad not going with him. Over the past few months I feel like we’ve been drifting apart. Taylor’s always out doing whatever—or whoever—it is he does while I’ve been hiding here. I’ve no idea what’s going on with him but I have a suspicion that it involves a man.

  I spend the night working, just like I said I was going to. I’ve just got into bed when I hear a commotion at our front door before the noise disappears into Taylor’s bedroom. His room is the opposite end of the flat, but sometimes that isn’t far enough away, and I get the feeling that tonight is going to be one of those nights.

  Chapter Two

  Lucas

  I can’t get the image of her grief-stricken face out of my head. It’s been four fucking days and it’s still there.

  I couldn’t fucking believe it when I came back to my room at the beginning of the week to find my newest cleaner laid out naked on my bed. Seriously, what is wrong with these women? I must have been through at least ten different cleaners since I took over this hotel just over six months ago. Why can’t they just do the job they are paid to do, and not think that just because they are cleaning my room it gives them the right to think I want them? I made the mistake of getting too close to a colleague once before, and it’s not happening again. Unlike her, though, thankfully cleaners are pretty easy to come by, so I can get them replaced pretty quickly.

  Then she turned up. Even her tears didn’t distract from how stunning she was with her golden hair, blue eyes and pink lips. I usually don’t waste any time where the opposite sex is concerned—I just take what I want, then move on. But as I stood staring at her, a little voice in my head kept saying, She works for you, don’t do anything stupid.

  I stood watching her cry for the longest time as my head and body argued against each other. My body wanted her; my head knew it was wrong. Then the business side of me wanted to demand to know why she wasn’t doing her job, or wearing the correct uniform, or why she’d been on the phone. I almost marched down to Hilary and demanded to know where she finds these women from. All I want is someone who can do a half decent job of keeping the place clean and tidy. Is it really that much to ask?

  When I made myself known, I was shocked by the fear in her eyes. I’ve been told before that I can be intimidating, but no one’s ever said they’ve been actually scared of me before. The second she looked at me, her eyes widened and I swear her hands started to shake.

  She went to leave, but for some reason, that felt wrong. Not only had she affected me, but she was clearly very upset. I couldn’t watch her leave though, and for some reason as she stepped past me my arm moved without instruction and grabbed her.

  I raise my fingertips to my lips. No matter how much I try, I can’t get rid of how it felt when she kissed me. It was the most innocent of kisses, but it’s affected me like no other.

  * * *

  I’ve kept away from my room every morning since. I’ve almost convinced myself that I dreamt it all and she doesn’t exist.

  I’ve managed without my phone all morning. I know exactly where it is—it’s on the shelf above the basin where I left it in the rush to get to my meeting this morning. Deciding it must be safe, I head up to my room to get it before I leave the hotel for the afternoon.

  It’s silent as I pass through the living room, so I relax a little. Everything looks great as I walk through. Apparently, I have a reputation for being a pain in the arse when it comes to how I want my stuff. I think it’s been blown out of proportion though, because as long as it’s clean and tidy, I don’t really care. I couldn’t care less how the towels are folded or how the pillows on my bed are arranged. I’m a guy for fuck’s sake, I don’t even know why I’ve got to have extra pillows on my bed. I’m more than happy with the normal amount just used for sleeping on.

  My head is already focused on the meeting I have this afternoon with the builders to discuss the renovation for this place. I bought it just over six months ago. I had planned to start work on it right away, but it was clear from the first day that the major problems with it were the systems in place to run it. I brought in Catherine, and together we’ve basically started from scratch. Thanks to her, this hotel is now running like a well-oiled machine, so it’s time for it to have a new look.

  All thoughts of golden blonde hair evaporate as I focus on what I need to talk to the builder about, but that’s all shattered when I step foot in my bathroom.

  She’s bent over the bath with her arse stuck right up in the air.

  The desire to walk up behind her is huge. Instead, I grab on to the sides of the doorframe to keep me where I am. My movement must catch her attention, because she instantly flicks her head around to look at me before standing up.

  “Good afternoon,” I say as I try to keep my eyes on her face and not let them roam.

  “Af…Afternoon, Sir.” Her response makes me smile.

  “Please don’t call me that. It makes me sound ancient.” It’s obvious I’m older than her, but I don’t need her making me sound like I’m heading for retirement.

>   “Okay…sorry Mr. D…Dalton,” she stutters out nervously. I can’t help the rush of excitement that goes through me as I think about her reactions around me.

  “It’s Lucas.”

  “Okay, well…I’d better get on.” Just as she finishes her sentence, the sound of her stomach rumbling fills the bathroom. She flushes pink and turns away from me.

  “Have you had lunch?”

  “No,” she mumbles as she starts scrubbing the tiles harshly.

  “I’ll get you something sent up.” She drops the sponge and spins my way. The shocked look on her face makes me smile.

  “I’m fine, thank you.” As if to prove she’s lying, her belly does it again.

  “Have you even had breakfast?”

  She shrugs one shoulder up as she whispers that she had a banana on the way to work this morning.

  “That was hours ago. I’m getting you lunch, no arguments.”

  Her mouth drops open as if she’s going to say something, but she decides against it. She must realise she won’t win if she starts something.

  “Thank you,” she whispers, looking slightly embarrassed. “That’s really kind of you.”

  “Any preference?”